


Paper Butterflies

by orphan_account



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Metaphors, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonic and Shadow sit across from each other on that lonesome October night, the air chilling them, the smell of smoke in their nostrils. Sonic mentions paper butterflies to Shadow, a creature that holds messages on its wings...Sonadow, Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Butterflies

The sun rose with a candy red splendor. It reminded him of small chocolate with a red coating just gazing at it, as the trees around him were beginning to be bare with their golden leaves leaving their bodies and into the earth, the wind blowing wicked on his fur and skin, the leaves feeling wet and cool when he touched them with his legs. Autumn was here, the quietest of seasons, the season he could remember briefly the taste of apple cider and the smell of burning wood in the October air as his friend, Shadow, was gathering them, their scarves hanging briefly in the air, the sky rosy and with the touch of King Midas’ golden fingers. Shadow simply wanted to talk while they had bonfires. Talk of many things that were dull to other people’s ears. Trees, the sea, the little shed near the home that had the dusty smell of cinnamon and gasoline as they gathered the knickknacks that someone left over, not knowing exactly what to do with it. Sometimes they left those things just lying around, hoping that the man would come back, either in flesh and bone or as a spirit who forgot to take his treasures with him to the afterlife. They thought they shouldn’t touch anything, leave their marks and fingerprints on someone else’s belongings, the mark of curiousness, the mark of toying, the mark of that childish splendor of having a room inside that shed full of ancient toys, ones possibly made from the ‘60s, with real wood, with real painted and china-looking faces, fragile and beset with hope and loss of the innocence they used to have when their children played with them. Sonic could only touch one of those toys with his indenting fingerprints and only sigh, the man in the plane, with its knobby neck and its knobby nose and its wooden painted wings and the other small planes traveling with it in the air to some foreign territory, they thought they were going somewhere, but not so. Only in the shed would they remain, lost, but not forgotten. There was some sort of prize he felt touching these old toys, and he thought maybe one day he could share them with Tails, even if he wasn’t interested in such toys anymore. He felt he spoiled him sometimes. He gave him so many toys that Tails didn’t know what to do with them.

The sun was sinking lower on the horizon, the chocolate candy seeming to melt in God’s mouth. The sun was slowly melting to the world of the stars and the maiden moon, with her porcelain face and her silver lips and her silver blue eyes as she gazed at the two hedgehogs, wondering what they were doing on this October night, as they could only say and recollected their thoughts, the tired old thoughts that were melting as quick as the sun, ready to be waved away by only warmth and joy.

The fire flickered. They could see the amber flames rising and making their silhouettes marked on the wall beside the home, the spiked head of one, the horned head of another, seeming to be in that harmony, that peacefulness, on a October night where he thought that nothing was going to happen, nothing at all, as they thought of nature’s ordinary things, the gold in things they saw everyday, the mulch underneath their feet not filled with just worms and salamanders but gold. The gold collected from the sun’s rays as they formed into solid sheds of the maiden’s skin and fell upon the earth, the woman lying in bed, naked, with a cigarette in hand, as her skin continued to peel off, the sun maiden wishing that the moon would love her, but she was far away, far away in the galaxies where their words and screams couldn’t reach.

His fingers twitched. He had to tell Shadow something. Something that would make him happier.

His voice seemed to crackle as much as the fire, as much as the skin upon the sun maiden as she scratched and shed and made more gold for the world before she left, silent and alone, and he spoke.

“Shadow, have you ever thought…that…that…” He only seemed to stammer. He hid his face away, seemingly embarrassed, the tide of the stars rushing in.  
“Thought of what?”  
He thought of the stars as only the reflection of the sun upon the moon’s ocean. The sky was the sea. “Well, it’s just that I…I…I just really…”  
“Come on, out with it! You never struggled to express your feelings before, why is it so hard for you now?”

He thought of himself as branches, veins. His hands forever reaching out in many strands, becoming long and pointed, reaching for Shadow, reaching for his friends, but God would only allow for him to reach so much. He could feel his heart bursting through those branches, the light swarming inside them, the white golden glow of his thoughts flowing throughout his body, an illuminated tree that glowed for the world to see.

“Because I’m just…a little…I don’t know, let’s say we have some s’mores, huh? Don’t you have more of those peanut butter cups…”  
“Out with it, Sonic. Don’t try to avoid anything. Just say what you want to say. It’s not hard. It really isn’t.”

Silence.

He wished it was a lot easier like Shadow said it was, but it never was.

The wind whistled between the trees. Shadow got closer to him, as the fire glowed radiantly against their shiny fur, his hand reaching out and touching his ears, soft and smooth to his fingers, flicking and lowering to his touch, Sonic anxiously expecting his hand, wondering why he was reaching out for him with his soft white fingers, confused. His hand touched his ears, his finger rubbing the insides of them, feeling the soft velvet between his fingers, Sonic stifling a chuckle as it tickled him slightly, his eyes closing as he focused on his fingers reaching out suddenly, arching, scratching them and making him relaxed as he could feel the wind flow through him, as if he was just like the trees near their home, but Shadow simply wanted to get a purr out of him, as Sonic delightedly cooed and his muscles relaxed, feeling the fire’s hands, feeling his own as well.

His other hand was on his chest, curious, to feel the reverberations inside him, the little engine of pleasure inside of him, as he continued to purr and lay his body down on his knees, watching the stars as they brightened for him, the sharp white little candles much like in a church, much like the tips of his teeth, burning, as was Shadow’s desire to make him completely melt with love, Sonic breathing gently in and out as Shadow laid his other hand underneath his chin, feeling the gentle vibration of that pleasure engine, his heart beating faster, and he scratched it lovingly as if he was a kitten, Sonic purring and cooing in delight, liking both the warmth of the fire as if it was a blanket against the night cold and the warmth of Shadow’s affections and his thoughts.

His hands felt compassionate, kind, as he could feel his fur being rubbed and stroked and petted, and he smiled as his eyes were lulled by his touch, almost seeming to sleep under Shadow’s spell. He yawned, nodding off, using Shadow’s body as a pillow, sensing himself dreaming briefly of warm golden summers and of ships sailing across the star-studded ocean, as he continued to pet him and massage him, Sonic’s purrs growing louder, seeming to grow stronger with each pet and stroke and rubbing, and he thought he would sleep near him, on this October night, when the wind began to be silenced, when the moon became louder in its shine, and he opened one eye, to look at the black hedgehog smirking at him, seeming to be thinking of mischief.

“What are you planning…”  
It was then he thought he saw a sparkle in his red eyes, as he smiled, and suddenly lunged both his hands on his body, tickling him, Sonic doubled over in shrieks of laughter.

“Shadow…stop it! You know how ticklish I am! Stop! I mean it!” He tickled his ears, his chest, his chin, he just wanted to hear his mirth, his laughter, his joy of being loved and fussed over and played with like a child again, Shadow wishing that they could’ve spent a merry childhood together, but this was the closest thing, tickling him into submission, until his eyes were full of tears as his stomach rolled with glee and he begged him to stop. But he thought it was charming, seeing Sonic falling victim to something as harmless and innocent as a tickle, as he tried to push him away from him, but he relentlessly rubbed his fingers quickly against him, Sonic’s merriment echoing in the night. His ears seemed to be his weak spot, as his laughter’s were louder, nearly shouting with his ears being rubbed and played with, and he thought through all his defeating laughs he could catch a hint of a purr, as he seemed to enjoy playing in this game with him, to laugh so hard that his body began to relax and his fears and worries and doubts melted away, and so did Shadow’s, just to hear him being trumped by his loving fingers.

As Sonic thought his chest would hurt from all of the laughing and playing, his lips were suddenly warm, his face flushing, as Shadow has leaned over and kissed him on the lips, his ears pricking up to full attention, his eyes becoming brighter and fuller. And Sonic knew he actually didn’t want to break away from his embrace, from how loving and how nice it felt to be kissed, to be loved by someone he knew he loved back, as Shadow rose over him and kissed him on the forehead, Sonic feeling that warmth all over him as much as his tickles were all over his body, and he closed his eyes, and thought on how much his heart was beating at this moment, how many beats he could count as it fluttered, like the paper butterfly it was with the curved wings, ready to fly from his body and into the night. Thump thump thump thump thump. He thought he could imagine that butterfly, on his finger, its antennae reaching out for him, its glittered eyes staring at him, before it flew away to a warmer place, inside Shadow’s soul, where it would rest inside his chest, and it would be comforted, loved, attended to. He knew it would be safe inside him. He knew it.

He enjoyed it, and in fact, on this warm October night, he wanted to be here, forever, with someone he wanted to admit that he was devoted to, ever since they seemed to meet.

He stroked his quills, Sonic enjoying his touch, the feel of his glowing fingers, then he smiled, and said, “That was what I wanted to tell you, Shadow. That when I look at your eyes, I feel like I have to say to you, everyday…that I love you. Until the paper butterflies are done being shaped from the small hands of our childish selves, their wings having messages that our mouths simply can’t utter, because we feel like we don’t have enough courage. That we don’t have enough strength to tell each other that we love each other. But the butterflies are always flying, in spring, in summer, in autumn, in winter, always flying for their lovers to see their little messages. And I see your message, Shadow. And it’s that…you love me, too.”

In the light of the flames’ golden faces, he could see a tiny white insect perched beside him, its wings dusted with pink glitter and red markers. The wings seemed to breathe, as they slowly moved back and forth, allowing the cold October air and the warm fire inside its buttery hearts, and as it looked up to him, he reached out to it with one finger, the insect crawling on it as he could see the message ushered inside of it, written in a blue, nearly scrawled ink, but it seemed to kindle by the moon’s touch, the blue nearly glowing in a sapphire-like hue. And as he read the message, he could hear Sonic’s voice, pleasant and bursting full of the heart’s uttering’s, it said, I will love you, for a long time that even God can’t calculate. Until the sun stops shedding its golden skin. Until the stars in the moon seem to dry out. But you know that will never happen. The tides of the stars are endless, vast, and they never seem to repeat. The universe is just large, large enough for us to never fathom it, but as long as the universe is big as long as the sun is gold and as long as I’m blue then…our love is true.

Shadow smiled back, and was silent. They shared that silence together; the only sound said was the sound of the fire speaking to them in brightened and flaring tongues. The butterfly continued to gaze at them, as its wings bloomed of a white star like light, as the wings constructed with simple notebook paper that was as lit up as the flames in the bonfire flew away, the night’s air carrying Sonic’s message of love, as he could see it like the sun’s reflection in the moon’s ocean waves, the butterfly possibly implanted in the stars, like the Greek gods that performed heroic deeds to be immortalized in the shapes of arrows and triangles and the flashing white fiery eyes as they sat and watched and stared at the world, as the shooting stars continued to streak the sky.

When they thought the paper butterfly faded away to the black swallowing mouth of the galaxies, they thought they could hear Tails calling them from the home, his voice seeming small and hushed compared to the flames.

“Sonic, dinner is ready! I’ve been calling you for so long that your food is going to get cold if you don’t hurry here…”

He felt a large weight being lifted from his heart. It was light, and it shined like the moon in the sky, with its silver incandescence glowing over the fire, as Sonic could only smile warmly, stretching his white branched fingers into Shadow’s, their hearts united. One.

We are together. We are one entity. We are the love-tickled, the love-touched. Our hearts beat as one. Our life flows in the same river…as one.

The rest of that night fell into silence, as the lights were put out like the small wickering flame in candles, and their hearts beat together, their breaths and life were unified.

Sonic thought he could see another paper butterfly by the windowsill, flapping its white iridescent wings on the crevice, patiently waiting for them to open it, another day, another message, ignited by their love. 

Their souls were light and carried no pain.


End file.
